18 And Life A Jack Sparrow OneShot
by Morningglory5510
Summary: Jack Sparrow leaves his home after taking too much abuse from his father. He finds himself in a new town with no rules and the drink his best friend but he does realize that he'll lose another friend if he continues with his recklessness. Song-fic!


"_Not a lot's known about Jack Sparrow before he showed up in Tortuga with a mind to go after the treasure of Isla de Muerta. That was before…he was captain of the Black Pearl."_

_Ricky was a young boy, he had a heart of stone_

The day was hot in the Caribbean sun; the whole of Shipwreck Cove had taken refuge in their homes, in the water, trying to hide from the intense heat. All was still and quiet, except where Captain Teague's son was concerned. Away in a corner of the town Jack Sparrow was arguing with another boy, the fight escalating until the owner of the ring they were at was forced to make both of them leave.

Jack stalked off in the direction of his home, leaving behind the two other angry men. The heat of the day didn't bother him and he made his way through the empty streets, his blood boiling warmer than the sun ever could be. All he could think about was the fight. Everything the other person had said, he wouldn't get away with that – he couldn't!

The people he passed jumped out of his way as he stormed passed. They couldn't seem to get away fast enough. They wall knew better than to cross him, he was Teague's boy and he had a temper that could rival his fathers.

His house loomed up before him, the largest on the pirate island because his old man was the 'leader' of the town and the keeper of The Code. Inside, Jack ran into his father, Teague, who was waiting for him to come back.

_Lived 9 to 5 and he worked his fingers to the bone_

"Go get some water, boy," Teague demanded as soon as Jack walked through the door.

The teenage boy walked through the house toward his bedroom, ignoring his father.

Teague followed him through the front room and down the hall, "I said to go get some water!"

Jack disappeared inside his room and reemerged a moment later, stalking back out of the house as quickly as he could. His father yelled after him and finally he turned to look at the man who kept him trapped here, who caused all of his anger.

"I'm going to work!" Jack yelled, "To pay for all of this!"

He gestured wildly to the house and all of the luxuries his father liked to claim he could afford. No one actually knew that Jack was keeping it all up, that all of Jack's money went to his father while his father's money went to drink and gambling. Only the two of them knew it, and Jack's mother, though she liked to pretend she didn't know what was going on.

But Teague's eyes grew dark with hatred at his son's words, "Don't you dare talk to me like that, boy!"

The father advanced on his son, but Jack turned his back to him and started through the town. Still, Teague's voice rang in his ears.

"Bring back that water or don't come back at all!"

He didn't say anything as he walked away from his father and into the town.

His job was long and hard, physically taxing, and the time he had to think wore on him until he couldn't stand it anymore. All he could think about was this island and how he'd do anything to get off of it. It was a cage and Jack wanted out.

_Just barely out of school, came from the edge of town_

As soon as the working day was over, Jack made his way back home. The sun was now going down, but the heat was still frying anyone who dared to step out of their shaded homes.

Jack's home stood right at the edge of the water and Jack hoped that his father would be gone or asleep. He had no such luck.

He walked into his house to hear both of his parents conversing in the living room. There was no turning back, though Jack wished it desperately. His mother had already heard him and was beckoning him into the living room. How he wished she wouldn't. His father would only make an argument and they would either end up in a fistfight or one of them would leave and either way it would make his mother cry.

Jack hated to see his mother upset. She was one of the only people who loved him and looked after him. Still, he couldn't help it when his father got at him, nothing could possibly stop his anger at his father because for some reason nothing Jack did ever stopped his father's anger at him.

With a heavy sigh, Jack obeyed his mother's wishes and started toward the living room where his parents were sitting together on the old couch. His father had him working even harder to replace it lately because it 'looked like crap with the new rug'.

_Fought like a switchblade so no one could take him down_

Just like expected, as soon as he entered the room Teague was ready to start a fight. His father started off the conversation by asking about the water. Where was it? Why didn't he have it? And then finally, get out of the house because it was nowhere to be seen and Jack had obviously disobeyed him.  
>Jack's mother yelled between them, screaming for them to stop, but it didn't help – nothing would stop them. They were in each other's faces, cheeks red and purple, veins popping up to be seen. Their eyes were wide, their voices rising until Teague finally pushed Jack down. The room went silent and Jack pushed himself up, storming to his room. He came back with his sword in his hand, walking to the door.<p>

"Where do you think you're going?" Teague yelled, grabbing his son's arm.

Jack spun around, sword swinging up under his father's chin. Teague's eyes widened and he stared at his only child in fear.

"Don't touch me," Jack growled lowly.

The older man swallowed slowly and nodded his head, carefully so that it wouldn't cut him.

Jack nodded curtly and sheathed his sword, running out of the house.

_He had no money, oh no good at home_

Jack got out of the house and made his way through the town of Shipwreck. No one dared approach him because of his cold demeanor and the way he gripped his sword like he was ready to use it one anyone who came too close.

He had to get off the island, had to get away. It was just his luck to come across a man and his crew in one of the many bars. They were leaving the next day and Jack knew this was his chance. If he ever wanted to get off this island these people would be his ticket.

So he did the only thing he could think of, sitting down at the table where the captain was drinking a bottle of some amber liquid. Jack knew it to be rum, a pirate favorite, but Jack had never tried it before. Now that it was there, he was tempted to try it, but he put it out of his mind for the moment.

"What do you want, lad?" the captain asked, fixing Jack with a stare.

Jack laid his hands on the table before them as he spoke the words that had been haunting him since he could think about such things, "I want off this island."

The man raised his eyebrows, "You look a little young."  
>"I'm eighteen, that's old enough to make my own decisions," Jack reasoned.<p>

The pirate captain nodded slowly, "I suppose you're right, but what can I do about it?"

"Do you have a ship?" Jack asked.

"Aye," the man replied.

"Well then, you can take me with you when you go wherever you're going," Jack said.

The man laughed, a real, warm laugh, "And just why would I do that?"  
>"I can work for you," Jack said. "You don't have to pay me anything, just take me wherever you're going, take me anywhere. You can drop me off wherever you want."<p>

The captain paused, watching Jack, studying him. "What's your name?" he questioned.

"Jack Sparrow," Jack replied.

The man looked down, seemed to be thinking, then looked back up at Jack. He nodded, "I think we can come to some agreement. Come back tomorrow and we'll work out the details."

A grin spread across Jack's face as he nodded. He stood and shook the captain's hand before walking out of the bar. Then he stopped. He had no idea where he was going. He only had a pocket full of coins and if he was going away then he'd want to save his money.

Jack found himself sleeping in an alleyway, waking every few hours just to fall back asleep. When the sun came up he made his way back to the bar to meet up with the captain, feeling that today would be a better day. And it was.

The two men were able to strike up a bargain and soon they were off at sea, sailing through the open ocean. Jack was happy to work aboard the ship, he finally felt free from the confines his father had always put on him.

It wasn't long until they came to dock at a small port, one that wasn't great, but wasn't too bad either. It was then that the captain came to talk to him and told him that this was where he would have to leave; this was as far as they would take him.

"You've been great, Jack," the captain said. "But we can't take you any farther. We're gonna go after a treasure that's too great for you, you're still too young. This town will be good for you."

It was all fine with Jack, though. He was ready to go. After getting away from Shipwreck Cove, he didn't like to be trapped on the ship with no say in where it was going for too long. Now he just had to figure out what to do from there. Maybe he'd find another ship and barter passage from there.

_He walked the streets a soldier and he fought the world alone_

So Jack left the ship and then the ship left the port. Jack found himself alone and without much cash, walking through the town. This port wasn't the nicest at night and he was glad to have his sword on him.

He wandered through the streets aimlessly, but at every turn he was met with the glares of the residents of this port. They all seemed to hate him, their faces filled with everything ranging from disgust to outright hatred. A few times Jack found himself gripping his sword tightly, wary of attack that seemed about to break out around him.

Jack finally located a bar/inn and paid for a room with his small amount of cash. Soon he would have nothing and then he would really have to resort to pirate ways – illegal ways.

The next day Jack bought himself some breakfast down at the bar and then left the place. What was he to do? Where was he to go now? The answers eluded him and he decided to wander the streets again and see what he could find.

During the daylight hours, the people of the town ignored Jack and he wondered if they had finally given up on hating him. For his first day here, he spent it rather bored, just looking around at the shops and stands that were out. He looked, but didn't touch. Nothing was worth taking, or trying to take, risking getting caught.

As the day grew dark and turned to night, the people grew more hostile, distrusting. Their innocent stares turned to harsh glares, scathing looks, despicable remarks fit for the likes of pirates.

Jack grew uneasy on the streets, the more he walked, the tighter he held his sword as if he was ready to use it at any moment. Eventually he came to the conclusion that finding the bar he'd slept at the night before would be the best thing to do for the night. Tomorrow, he'd find a way out of this place.

Slowly, he wound his way through the streets, finding his way by memory as best he could. The night closed in on him and the light from all of the street shops was the only thing that helped him along, although he wanted to stay as far away from them as he could.

It was when he came to pass one in particular that something really happened. All of this time Jack had made his way without receiving more than the looks, but now it all changed.

A boy looking about 18, Jack's age, stepped out of the shadows by a bar with an old rickety sign and falling door. He had long brown hair, pulled back into a ponytail and hard brown eyes.

He glared at Jack with the same hostility that everyone else did, but the difference was that there was a determination there as well. This kid was going to do something about it.

Jack took in his opponent as soon as he stepped up. There was an air about him that said he was experienced, but not nearly as much as Jack was. The kid was nervous, but cocky. He had a sword at his waist, but that was it – no other weapons appeared to be on him.

The kid drew his sword and stepped up as Jack eyed him. Jack pulled up his own sword, standing in a nonthreatening way, but still silently watching and observing the other boy. Then the kid stepped up, swinging his sword around.

Jack also stepped forward, swinging up his own sword so that the two clanged together noisily above their heads. That was only the beginning.

The other boy brought down his weapon only to swing it again, thrusting it forward at Jack's stomach. Jack only had to step back and the blade whistled against the air. He swiped it through the air again and Jack only had to lift his sword but a little to block it.

Eventually Jack grew bored with the kid and stepped up in offense, easily cutting the kid in the arm. He gasped and looked between his arm and Jack. Then he tried to swing again. Only Jack was too good for him.

It wasn't long until Jack had disarmed the boy and gave him a few more nasty cuts to remind him that he'd messed with the wrong person. Suddenly Jack stopped, the kid was on the ground and he was done.

A man walked up through the shadows, his face red with anger.

"And just what do you think you're doing!" he yelled.

Jack didn't say anything.

"Get out of here! If you don't leave right now, I swear I'll do worse to you than you could imagine, boy!" the man was bellowing.

Without a word to the man or the boy, Jack turned around and started walking through the streets again. The people continued to glare at him and Jack realized he'd never felt more alone than he did at that moment.

But there was no going back. He couldn't go home, his father would kill him for sure. The only option was to go forward.

And now it's

Jack knew that if he was ever to be caught that he'd be put in jail. There'd be no return for him. They might even hang him if they thought he'd committed any act of piracy.

18 and life you've got it

He eventually found the bar he'd slept in the night before and spent the rest of that night using up a few more dollars that he had left. His pocket was quickly growing empty, but he had to sleep and he didn't trust the streets here where anyone could come up and attempt to kill him.

18 and life you know

The next morning, Jack rose with sun and he quickly made to leave this horrid port. There was nothing here for him and he found that it was time to move on to somewhere that would accept him better.

Your crime is time and it's

It wasn't long until he'd bartered passage on a ship that agreed to take him a little ways, to another port that was not so distrusting of pirates. They warned him that it wasn't the kindest of ports either, but Jack didn't mind as long as everyone wasn't looking to murder him in the night.

18 and life to go

This port was better, Jack found when they arrived. It was loud and rowdy, but this was better than where he had been.

18 and life you've got it

The ship that he'd arrived on left and then Jack was alone once again. He didn't mind so much, though, he simply wanted to make a life of his own. He wanted to be free.

18 and life you know

Now all he had to do was wander around. There was barely any money in his pockets and he didn't know a soul here. Jack was ready to face the world.

Your crime is time and its 18 and life to go

This place was a lot more accommodating to crimes and Jack found it was easy to commit them without feeling the least bit of remorse for his actions. Nobody minded because he was just another pirate among many.

It wasn't long until he met another kid who seemed to be just like him, though he'd rather follow somebody else around. Jack and the boy, Dallas, soon became best friends. They were inseparable, Jack the leader, Dallas his wingman. The entire town soon knew of them – they were legend, it seemed.

Tequila in his heartbeat

Dallas was the one who introduced Jack to liquor. Jack had never tried it, afraid that he'd end up life his father, but one night in one of the bars Dallas and a few other guys showed Jack what they'd gotten.

"Jack, you've gotta try it," Dallas laughed, throwing an arm around Jack's shoulders with an easy smile.

Jack just looked at his with a frown, "No thank you, I prefer to think clearly without it."

Dallas laughed loudly, the men around following suit.

"Jack, it's just rum! You can think fine through it!" Dallas said.

"If you want something that'll mess you up, try this," a man said from his bar stool.

The men's words echoed in his mind until he all he could do was take the bottle from the man and pour it down his throat.

Jack gasped as it burned a path from his mouth all the way down to his stomach and he almost pushed the bottle away from him. The laughter of all of the others had him holding it closer, though.

"And I thought he was tough," one man yelled.

"He's never had it before!" Dallas snapped back, instantly becoming defensive.

As Jack took another swallow of the strong liquid, he laughed and pushed his friend's shoulder.  
>"No big deal," he said with a smirk. "Relax."<p>

For a second Dallas looked like he was going to say something, but then he chuckled and nodded easily.

"Right," he replied.

His veins burned gasoline

From that day forward Jack always had some form of alcohol on him. He liked the way it made him loose control and made him feel free. Dallas stuck to his rum, liking the way he kept control over himself better.

The two of them roamed the streets together every night, making fun by stealing things from shops and picking fights with guys who thought they could fight, but weren't nearly as good as them. They made a few friends, even more enemies, but they had fun in this port.

All of the alcohol Jack consumed seemed to make him angrier and angrier until fighting wasn't fun anymore. Dallas followed Jack wherever he went, but the ease with which he normally followed him started to wear off. Still, he trusted Jack with everything he had.

The two were the rebels of the town, starting fights and fires. Huge fires in back alleys and empty fields. Nobody argued with them, just let them be.

It kept his motor running but it never kept him clean

It started to wear on Jack, without the alcohol he didn't feel right anymore. He wanted it, needed it. He couldn't function without it.

They lived in bars, alleys, inns. They made their money gambling and stealing from homes where the owners were absent.

Jack started to try other things, but he mainly stuck to alcohol. The buzz was something he couldn't forget.

They say he loved adventure, 'Ricky's a wild one'

Though Jack had stayed in this town, he still felt the need to be free. He still felt like he was in a cage. Jack knew he needed something challenging, something to do, but he drowned out the feelings with the alcohol and the fights.

Dallas ignored all the changes with his friend. He went with it, leaving Jack to deal with everything the way that he would.

The entire town knew that Jack wanted to get out. But no one said a thing. They let him be as he slowly let himself go.

Anytime there were visitors, they were warned of Jack and Dallas. Never be caught alone with them.

"They don't mean harm," they would say, "But that doesn't mean they don't cause it."

Everyone saw where Jack was headed, but he wasn't doing anything illegal for them to see, so they left him alone.

"He'll calm down in time," they told each other. "He's just restless for now."  
>"He doesn't have a family," other said. "Poor kid came on a ship with hardly a penny in his pocket."<p>

Others thought it was better for him to leave, but they had no evidence, so they turned away and ignored him.

He married trouble, had a courtship with a gun

Jack was the kid in town who everyone else tried to stay away from. That was fine with him because as the days and weeks wore on, he just grew more and more frustrated. The more frustrated he grew, the more he drank. Drinking just caused him to start more fights.

And then he found a gun.

Jack and Dallas were raiding a house one night when they found it hidden beneath the bed. Dallas brought it out, grinning wildly and waving it around like a new favorite toy.

"Wonder what we could do with this," Dallas said, still smirking.

"A lot," Jack replied with a grin.

The gun changed things for Jack and it wasn't long before they'd found another so that they could both carry one. It was Jack's baby, almost as much as the alcohol, and he brought it out whenever he could.

Though Dallas enjoyed the weapon, he wasn't nearly as enticed by it and the phase of adoring the thing passed while Jack stayed mesmerized. The people of the town were starting to realize that maybe there was something wrong with Jack.

Bang, bang! Shoot him up the party never ends

Jack and Dallas started using their empty bottles as targets for shooting, trying to better their aim in case they ever came across someone they had to use a gun against. Wooden crates stacked on top of each other, then bottles atop those – the two started out a certain amount away and continued to back up.

They found that it was more fun to move every night, staying out as late as they could before crashing in the early hours of the morning. Everyday started to blend for Jack, until it was really just one big blur.

Dallas started trying to talk him into rum, but it only led to Jack taunting him about not drinking anything stronger.

"What would the guys at the bar say?" Jack would ask.

It didn't take much for Dallas to drop the subject and let Jack do as he wanted.

They ended up in a bar every night, what started to become their bar. The men there approved of Jack and Dallas and they guided them some, telling them things from their journeys and giving them tips on their own travels, their lives.

Jack looked up to these men. They did things, went places. The nights that they went to the bar, Jack was stuck listening to nearly everything they said.

That was, until they started telling him what he should or shouldn't be doing. He didn't like to be told what to do. Jack enjoyed being himself and he didn't like it when people tried to cage him. So, he had to do the opposite.

They stopped going to the bar, instead spending every night they could shooting at bottles, practicing shooting. Dallas didn't complain, he was content to follow Jack.

You can't think of dying when the bottle's your best friend

Jack and Dallas continued to make enemies. They weren't the nicest people and they were nearly unstoppable, and they knew it. It wasn't hard for them to find people to pick fights with and they looked for fights at every turn.

Alcohol stayed a strong presence in Jack's life, continued to lead him and fuel his unease about staying in the town for so long. It caused him to practice with his gun more and every time they got in a fight, his hand itched to use it for more than just practice.

One night in an alley they ran across a man, tall and bulky. He glared at them and Jack just smirked. This was the kind of guy him and Dallas always took on.

The man took a menacing step toward them as Dallas started smiling as well, bringing out his sword. Jack took a large drink from his bottle, feeling it slide down his throat with ease before he raised his own sword.

It must've looked like they would be easy to beat because the man didn't have any weapon at all when he started to fight them. He used an old chair on the side of a building to hit them and then his own fists.

Dallas disappeared and suddenly Jack was fighting the man by himself. Jack didn't pay any attention to that, he was used to this. It was all a part of their plan, though they'd never actually spoken it aloud.

The man reached for something behind his back and Jack had no question about what it could be. Just as expected, a gun came up, aiming straight at Jack's head.

Jack smirked at the large man. Nothing was funny, there was no joke. There was no hesitation in the man's eyes, no fear hidden there. He was ready to kill Jack as he cocked his gun.

He never got to pull the trigger, though. From behind, Dallas bashed him with the remains of the chair, hitting the man over the head as hard as he could. Without a sound, the man fell to the ground.

Jack grinned at his friend before he leaned down and picked up his bottle. He took a large drink from it before passing it to his friend. Dallas took a drink as well, but passed it back after and refused to take it again.

They continued on their way, Jack not even flinching after the threat to his life. It didn't scare him in the least to die.

And now it's

The boys continued on their way through the town, not stopping to think about what they'd done. It was too common now, too normal.

Tonight, they decided they would hang out in another back alley. They wanted to have a fire and drink the night away without the worry of being caught by some uptight adult. They were young and they were going to show it.

In the alleyway, Dallas gathered large crates and Jack began to pour his liquor on top of them. They would take quite nicely to the flame they were about to start on it.

Dallas brought out his lighter and watched as the pile went up in flames, flaring higher and higher into the darkness. Orange fire licked the sky and danced against the moonlight, reaching ever higher for the stars.

The two boys couldn't care less about the beauty of the fire; they were too busy guzzling down their alcohol. Dallas knew when he'd reached his limit and quit, but Jack wanted to be free and he kept drinking, hoping the world would fade into nothing.

18 and life you've got it

Jack grabbed the gun from under his belt and tossed it from hand to hand with a small smirk. He cocked it and stared down at it for a long moment. Then he pulled it back and aimed it at Dallas' head.

Dallas glanced up as he felt the cool metal against his temple and he jerked away from the barrel of the pistol. He gaped at his best friend, eyes wide.

"What are you doing!" he yelled, surprised that Jack would do anything like that.

Jack grinned, but it wasn't happy. His smile looked rather cold for an expression that should be so warm.

"Relax, I'm just having a bit of fun," Jack replied as he put the gun back under his shirt.

Dallas stared at him for a long moment and then shook it off, turning to stare at the fire.

18 and life you know

The two knew that the way they were living could only get them in trouble, they knew it, but neither one of them actually believed that anything could touch them. They were invincible – superhuman.

As the fire grew dim, they left to find a bar to stay at; somewhere they could relax for the night and get a few more bottles of their alcohol of choice before heading off to sleep.

Your crime is time and it's

Jack and Dallas continued to stay at the top of the town. Everyone seemed to watch from afar, never daring to come to close to either of the reckless boys. Oh, but the people in this particular town loved to gossip and every day you could hear something new about them.

"Did you hear that Jack tried to shoot Dallas again?" a lady could tell her friends at one of their private get-togethers.

All the women would squeal and ask for details of his act.

"Dallas just pushed him away like it was nothing," a man would tell the guys at work during lunch break between bites of his wife's handmade sandwich.

"And then Jack was staring down the barrel of the other man's gun!" a boy would cry to his friends out in the schoolyard as they tried to reenact the scene. "And Dallas swooped in and slammed a chair over his head!"

The girls in the town would talk about their chances with either of them as they did their laundry side-by-side, "I think Jack has the dreamiest eyes, but Dallas definitely has way better hair."

Jack and Dallas weren't oblivious to the talk of the town, but they also didn't really pay any attention to it. They weren't doing what they did for anyone else – they did it for them. They did what they felt like they had to.

Even though they could someday be sentenced to jail, it never even felt like a possibility. They were stars. Nothing could stop them.

18 and life to go

Jack's behavior with his gun didn't stop. In fact, it got worse as his drinking habits did. The longer Jack drank, the more he pointed his gun wildly and it was often that he found it was aimed at Dallas.

Dallas didn't know what to think of his friend's new 'game' – so he ignored it and treated it as he did the drinking. For now he would just let his friend be. Besides, Jack would never hurt him. They were best friends and Jack knew how to handle a gun.

18 and life you've got it

Jack just felt restless, like he had to get out. But where would he go? Besides, he liked this town; he didn't want to leave it. More importantly, he didn't know how to get away. He was starting to feel like living a life in jail might be better, this place was feeling more and more like a cage every day.

Dallas didn't know a thing, Jack knew, and he doubted the other boy even suspected as much. Though he was pretty smart, Dallas was able to block things out that he didn't want to know.

18 and life you know

Jack just hoped that this wasn't a life sentence. Staying here forever would surely be the death of him. From the drinking, to the fighting, to playing with his gun. Jack couldn't stay here for his entire life or it would kill him.

Your crime is time and its 18 and life to go

Because neither of them knew what to do, they just stayed like they were. Living like this may have been almost miserable, but it was all they knew.

Jack pointed his gun at Dallas one night as he stared into another of their bonfires. Dallas shoved the barrel away from his head, getting angry with the fact that his friend couldn't keep the gun off of him. Although he wanted to believe it, he was starting to feel uneasy about such a weapon being aimed at him.

Jack laughed as his friend huffed in annoyance and then he stared back at the fire. He wanted to do something to make himself feel something, anything. So he picked up his bottle again, taking one large gulp and swallowing back the hard liquor.

Dallas didn't say a word. He really wanted to believe that Jack wouldn't hurt him, but lately he couldn't help but think more and more on that. Maybe his friend really would. That thought always put him in a foul mood.

'Accidents will happen' they all heard Ricky say

Everyone in the town had seen Jack with his pistol. Pulling it every chance he got, it would be impossible for them to miss. One day while hanging out with a group of girls from the town, they started to ask him questions.

The women sat around making shirts and pants for their husbands, rolling dough to make bread. A few of the men were carving wood or playing darts in a corner. Boys were practicing with their new swords.

"What if that gun goes off by accident?" one of the boys asked.

A girl shot him a look, sneering at him, "Jack's too good for that. He'd never let anything like that happen."

Jack simply shrugged as he answered the boy's question, "Accidents will happen; I can't do anything to stop that."

The entire circle heard him say it, but they thought nothing of it. Jack was too good, no accidents would happen with him. Or so they thought.

Then he fired his six-shot to the wind

The two boys sat around their bonfire that night, each with a bottle of their own favorite alcohol. They were just messing around, fighting although there was no real anger to it.

Dallas was laughing as he stared into the large fire before them. Tonight was how they were supposed to be. Jack was carefree, they were hanging out, and there wasn't a care in the world.

Jack took his bottle and dumped the liquid down his throat, the alcohol burning in a way that had him craving more. It was the stuff that made him angry though, and the more he drank, the he felt he just had to get out – to feel something. This just boiled his blood.

Dallas was getting angry too. Jack and his stupid gun were driving him insane. Why couldn't he just enjoy the night, like he'd been trying to? Why couldn't he just try to be happy for one day?

A small click in his ear alerted Dallas to the gun Jack was suddenly pointing at his head.

Dallas shoved it away from his face, scowling at his best friend.

"You wanna shoot me?" he yelled. "Huh?"

"Relax; it's just a bit of fun!" Jack yelled back.

But Dallas was fuming now, beyond just mad.

"You really wanna shoot me?" he screamed.

He pulled open his jacket as he stared at his friend with wild eyes.

"Do it!" Dallas yelled.

Jack stared at Dallas with steely eyes.

"Come on! Do it!" the boy yelled again.

That child blew a child away

Jack raised his gun like he had so many times before, but this time it was with a certain intent to use it. His friend screaming stirred something inside him, the parts of him that wished to feel. Maybe doing as Dallas said would strike something inside him. He just might feel something.

"Shoot me!" Dallas screamed.

Jack cocked his gun and put his finger on the trigger, aiming at his best friend. Without skipping a beat, he slowly pulled the trigger.

The shot that rang out through the night was just the same as all the others that had gone before it, but this time it killed.

Sparrow watched as Dallas' body fell limply to the ground, blood seeping onto his shirt and making a large circular stain. He was dead and Jack felt nothing, not a thing.

Despair filled him, though this wasn't the emotion he was hoping to feel. He dropped to his knees in the middle of the alley.  
>Jack fell to the ground, his head hitting the coarse dirt of the road. He was unconscious before he could register anything else.<p>

When he woke, it was to see a small crowd of people surrounding him and what looked like Dallas asleep on the ground a few feet away. The worried voices of the people met Jack's ears and he was curious to find out what caused it.

The sheriff of the town pushed through the people and into the small circle they had created. His face was kind of pale and he was staring at the scene in disbelief.

"What happened here?" he asked.

"He's dead," they whispered.

Jack's head lifted and he looked to see that Dallas still hadn't moved. Shouldn't his best friend be rising with all the commotion? Who was dead?

The sheriff looked between Jack and Dallas and he was shocked to find what he could hardly believe.

"Who did it?" he asked.

All eyes fell on Jack, who just stared at them with wide eyes. Were they looking at him?

"Get up, Sparrow," the sheriff said. "You're coming with me."

Jack rose from the ground and followed unsteadily behind the man as the rest of the town looked on. Every eye followed him, each bearing a look of betrayal, of distrust. The young man had no idea what to make of it.

The sheriff led Jack away from their prying gazes, but never looked back at him to make sure he was following. Somehow, the man seemed to know that he would be there.

Jack was still trying to wrap his head around it all. He'd killed Dallas? He killed Dallas. The words rang in his head, sharp and clear. He killed Dallas. Jack Sparrow killed his best friend and he didn't remember any of it.

They made it to the jail and the sheriff locked him in a cell. He killed Dallas. Jack didn't argue and he watched the doors swing shut without a word. He killed Dallas.

18 and life you've got it

It wasn't long until the trial to ascertain his punishment. The entire town was there to watch as the judge said the words that would take away Jack's freedom forever.

"This crime merits no less than a life sentence and Jack Sparrow will carry this out by pain of death, to be hung from the neck until dead," the deep voice of the judge announced.

There was cheering among the crowd and Jack watched them all with deep, thoughtful eyes. They were glad he would die. He was almost glad he would die. He killed Dallas.

"The sentence will be carried out one month from today," the judge carried on.

Again, the crowd cheered.

An officer took Jack's arm and led him away from the room, back to his cell in the basement of the jailhouse. The day was bright and sunny, seeming to mock Jack for all he'd done. This might be the last sunny day he'd see.

18 and life you know

Jack's time in his cell was spent brooding, thinking on that night. The next night, after Jack had woken to find Dallas dead, he dreamed of it and he woke in a cold sweat and the memory fresh in his mind. Now, all he could do was reflect. If only he hadn't had so much to drink, if only he stopped to think before he pulled the trigger. Maybe things would've been different.

There was no going back now, but Jack was stuck in his past. He was worse than his own father now – the one thing he'd never wanted to become. But he murdered his best friend and now he was going to die.

As the date of his own death grew closer, Jack could feel it, pressing in on him, weighing heavily there. It was always looming over his shoulder, waiting.

The other inmates who lived in the cells around him also had deaths approaching. Some of them wept, pleading with the guards and whoever would listen to forgive them, to help them. Others grew angry and cursed the people who put them there, screaming about how they didn't do anything to deserve this death.

Jack was among those who didn't say anything. Instead, he was quiet, contemplative. He knew he deserved to die. He also knew that the forgiveness of guards and other inmates would do nothing to ease his suffering. The only person whose forgiveness he would ever accept was dead.

And so Jack waited; waited for his death to bring him peace. At least death would give him what he always wanted – freedom. He would be free forever.

You're crime is time and it's

The days passed slowly and finally Jack came to realize that he didn't really want to die. He was beginning to realize why the older ones had taken to screaming and begging. They weren't ready either. Still, he wasn't sure he deserved to live after what he did.

Jack knew that either way, he couldn't be like them. If he ever wanted to get out of this place, he couldn't act like filth. He must be quiet, clever, bide his time until the opportune moment.

One thing Jack did know was that if he ever got out of here, he would never drink that stuff again. He couldn't, not after what he did to Dallas.

18 and life to go

The day of their sentences hung in the air around them, the entire jail feeling the heavy, ominous weight of it. Tomorrow they would die, whether they were ready for it or not.


End file.
